


id skip school for you

by hawrthiacoopri



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I actually like this?????, M/M, Post-Canon, Prescription Drugs Ment//, heeeeeeeeeeey its meeee, okay here we go, theyre like 15???? 16??? Old People
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:16:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9623822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawrthiacoopri/pseuds/hawrthiacoopri
Summary: And he wouldn’t be caught dead looking at Will’s nose, his lips, his collarbones- all things Mike could easily ignore. He was far too busy to look at any of his friends. Especially the guys, though El and he were history. They’d tried a few different times to date, putting their feet in the proverbial pool. They never lasted very long, though. Mike and El loved each other- that much was obvious- but it was familial, a bond of something akin to cousins who adored each other because they live so close and have been through so much.Ah, love. That brought Mike back to dating. Romance in general, really. And… Will. Why Will? Why did he come up whenever Mike thought of love? Of dating, even? Why him, of all people?Mike knew why, of course. He was just too fragile to admit it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HEEEY guys!! I'm back for now!! This'll probably have a sequel of sorts, okay??? yeah dude probably!!! im kinda recovering from Fandom Discourse and THAT TRAILER so im rlly on edge!! ill try to write whatever you want me too haha <3

Mike Wheeler had often thought to himself- more often than he’d like to admit- that anyone would be lucky to date Will Byers.

Now, wait- this isn’t weird, okay? Mike thought that about all of his friends. Naturally: Dustin, with his walking-on-sunshine temperament. Lucas, with his absolutely stellar complexion and endearing stubbornness, both of which their weak-willed, freckled friend was jealous of. And, of course, El, with her wavy hair and amazing eyes.

Oh. Wait a minute.

And the superpowers. Duh.

So it wasn’t strange, in Mike’s opinion, to feel that way about his smaller friend. It was true, wasn’t it? Will, with his slight figure and crisp, clear laugh. Will, with his tiny Monroe marks- he hated when people called them moles- that had settled on his neck and face, gracing his upper lip and Adam's apple. Will, with his quiet passions for music and art and books; how many of Mike’s favorite series were Will’s recommendation? Too many to count, surely. And of course, to top it off, he even managed to land the straightest, whitest teeth Mike had ever seen in his decade and a half of life, and the most enchanting eyes, doubly so. They were almost transparent in some lights, the sun catching and gleaming and dancing inside the amber of Will’s damned eyes. 

 

Not that Mike looked at any of that regularly, of course. It was just common knowledge, the way Will’s fingers were delicate and spindly, and yet produced such beautiful things, the ways in which the intricacies of Will’s mind clicked and span at the slightest provocation, the subtle angles of his torso flowing into the soft curve of his hip. That was yet another thing Mike, ever the insecure, envious teenager was jealous of; his friend’s seemingly perfect stature. Will’s looks flirted with girlish, which Mike definitely didn’t notice, but stopped just short, yet another thing Mike didn’t see. Will’s soft wonder was much nicer than Mike’s own lankiness, in his opinion. 

And he wouldn’t be caught dead looking at Will’s nose, his lips, his collarbones- all things Mike could easily ignore. He was far too busy to look at any of his friends. Especially the guys, though El and he were history. They’d tried a few different times to date, putting their feet in the proverbial pool. They never lasted very long, though. Mike and El loved each other- that much was obvious- but it was familial, a bond of something akin to cousins who adored each other because they live so close and have been through so much.

Ah, love. That brought Mike back to dating. Romance in general, really. And… Will. Why Will? Why did he come up whenever Mike thought of love? Of dating, even? Why him, of all people?

Mike knew why, of course. He was just too fragile to admit it. 

That he was… well. What was Mike, anyway? He wasn’t gay, he didn’t think. He’d liked girls before, including El, obviously. He liked girls in their usually soft, gentle demeanor, and if you called how Mike felt about Will a crush, he supposed he liked boys, too. But was it really boys? Boys were supposed me be mean, and strong, and rough. They just were, out here in Hawkins. In the country. Will wasn’t like that, especially not after what had happened to him. He took medication, not that it mattered much to anyone who knew him well, and he cried, often. Not that that mattered, either. Sometimes, in Mike’s shallowest of hearts, the one he hated and hadn’t meant to forge into existence, he felt that maybe he liked Will because he wasn’t unlike most girls. He resented that thought more than anything. Will wasn’t a girl! And if he was, why would it matter? Not at all. He’d still be a good artist. He’d still have nice eyes. And he’d still frustrate Mike with how amazing- awesome, he corrects, because waxing poetic isn’t as bad as using words found on comic book covers- he is. It confused Mike, left him awestruck, even, that Will was so trusting, even going as far as to tell the boys how he felt about guys. Mike hadn’t slept much that night, because he had a chance. Not a chance, but a chance at a chance. And it scared him. Because Mike’s chance at a normal relationship relied on Will not being remotely interested in him. Will was so, so good despite his run-ins with evil in it’s purest form.

Mike had often attempted to bargain with his attraction. Maybe he was only twenty-five percent gay and the rest was straight, he’d think, but then he’d see Will laugh and conclude maybe it was a different ratio. He scaled it up, down, backward, forward, all day for a year or so until he realized it was a fool’s errand. He wasn’t a percentage, or a fraction, he’d decided. He was a person! A whole, intact person… who also happened to like his best friend. 

Dammit! He’d promised not to do that again. But old habits died hard, he guessed.

But dammit all the same. 

_____

Will Byers knew two things at this moment; one, he didn’t want to go to school.

And, two, the walls didn’t flicker into blood-soaked boards every few seconds.

Of course he knew the first. He never wanted to go to school. Loud hallways coupled with the walls? No thanks. But of the second fact? He wasn’t so sure. They flickered for him, sure, but Will didn’t exactly scream statute of normalcy. Never really did, never really would. But maybe they did? Maybe this is how normal people lived after trauma, without the dull and barely contained lethargy of his pills. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, and licked his lips absently. 

He had to go to school. This, he knew. He had to he had to he had to and- hey. Whose car was that in the driveway? Was it- could it- yes! It was! Mike was here! Of course he was, idiot, his brain reminded him, he’s picking you up for school. Get up! Gut Will’s body didn’t seem to get it, because why would his body ever do anything he wanted? And so he lay still.

Will could hear Mike’s soft calls, because of course Mike was quiet, because everyone is quiet with Will. Mike is no exception.

“Will? You… you ready to go, dude?” Mike padded into Will’s room, flicking the lights on. His eyes fell to the smaller boy, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” Will just looked at him borderline-adoringly, trying to find his composure as he felt the acid prick of tears behind his eyes. He manages to keep them away for now.

Mike dropped his backpack at his door, sitting on the end of Will’s bed. He realized what was going to unfold today, and frankly, he didn’t mind. “Your brother’s at school? Mom’s working?” Will nodded slightly, already feeling up to moving. Mike seemed to have that effect on him. “Okay…” Mike trailed off, distracted by how Will seemed to be getting more and more agitated, even as he relaxed his body. “Did you…” He gulps. “Did you take your meds?” Will looked at his friend again, this time despairingly. “No, then. Okay.” Mike knew when not to push it with Will, and that now was one of those times. He breathed out slowly, pushing his bangs back and looking at the boy in front of him, pivoting so he was sitting cross legged at the foot of the bed. He ran a hand through his hair again, resting it at his side and putting his weight on it. “Do you… want to?” Will shook his head, and Mike accepted it. 

“Sorry.” Will finally mumbled, sitting up and drawing his legs up to his chest. He wished, not for the first time, that he wasn’t so fucked up so he could love people correctly and not dissapoint everyone quite so much. He wished that, among other things. Will was a wishful person, he supposed. He wanted a whole lot; more than he deserved, probably, he thought. He was always wishing and supposing and thinking nowadays. After all, what else are you gonna do when you can’t get out of bed reliably without drugs, Will thought yet again, bitterly this time. He was never bitter around Mike, yet here he was. 

“No, no, don’t apologize!” Mike shook his head, curls hitting his face and distracting Will. Oh, how often Will had wondered what it would be like to just let his hands bury themselves in Mike Wheeler’s thick, dark, enviable hair. Probably too often, but hey, Will didn’t have much nice to think about. He wasn’t about to stop, although they probably should. “I’m not gonna make you, I’m not your mom.” Mike sighed, scooting next to Will and mimicking his fetal pose. He rested his head on his knees, pouting a little bit before grinning brightly at Will. He, in turn, smiled weakly and looked away. He felt as if he couldn’t, or shouldn’t, look at Mike when he smiled. It was just so kind, so warm, so… beautiful.

 _Mike_ was beautiful, All peaks and slopes and miles and miles of legs. He was tall and lanky, wonderfully awkward in his braces and longish, curly hair. He really was gorgeous; naturally so. He had a scattering of freckles all over, from his shoulders to the dips of his collarbones to his cheeks. All Mike’s features were just so strongly defined and just so much to look at. Especially when he smiled.

“What’s up?” Mike asked, squishing his cheek against his kneecap. “You good now?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m just…” Will shrugged, looking back at Mike. “Thinking,” he finished weakly.

“About?” Mike prompted gently, putting a hand down to Will’s.

“Not important,” Will said, leaning against the headboard of the bed.

“It is to me,” Mike retorted. Will felt his spirits rise and mentally corrected him that no, it’s about him not important to him, but either way, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t tell. Will just sighed, looking at Mike in fascination when, suddenly, the walls flickered again, more vivid than ever. He jumped, of course, and felt his eyes fill with reactionary tears. The blood- the sight of it- wasn’t as bad as the overwhelming stench. The iron, choking scent felt as if it was in his every pore. And when he looked down, it was. His hands were streaked in it. Will looked down helplessly, knowing that this was his life now. A dry sob wracked his body, and he buried his head in his hands. 

Suddenly- but not unpleasantly- a warm hand settled in between Will’s shoulder blades. It circled his vertebrae comfortingly, if awkwardly, and Will appreciated being touched in his current state so that he could have purred. But he didn’t, thank goodness, and instead steadied his breathing slightly. He cracked an eye open, just to see, praying the blood and darkness would be gone now that Mike was there, he was there and he was touching Will with such purpose and kindness… but of course, it wasn’t. Because nothing that terrible in Will’s life went away just because of one beautiful, beautiful soul, and because nothing Will had wished for had ever happened, despite how often he did it. He let out a choking deluge of tears, and lost what little control he had, relinquishing it to Mike because he knew Mike would take care.

And Mike did; he did as expected and took the shaking teen into his arms, cooing soft, meaningless words and shushing him in an almost automatic fashion. After all, anyone with the amount if terror and strife in their life eventually learned how to calm another. Besides that, Will reasoned with himself, Mike was the most understanding boy he’d ever met. He never turned anyone away if they needed help, and even if he genuinely hated someone, he kept it to himself until provoked. He was the perfect model of the empath he really was; he felt too much and he loved too hard, and he never knew when to give up. He loved his friends to death and didn’t let any problem slip, even if it was awkward for him, even if he was angry and didn’t want to listen. They could’ve gotten Troy in trouble ages ago, but Mike had always stopped them just short. He’s only being a dick because someone was a dick to him, he’d argued, so just let him be like that. Let someone else deal with the son of a bitch. So of course Mike hugged Will close, and let him sob a spot into his shirt. 

 

“Will, please…” Mike started awkwardly, petting his friend’s hair. “Here, I- I don’t understand what’s going on inside your head, but I know it’s hurting you, and… and I just want you to know… If there was something I could do to take the hurt away, even if it all went to me, I’d take it away, because… gosh, this is weird… I love you, Will, I love you and I can feel everything that’s hurting you, practically, and I hate it. I want you to be so, so happy. You’re so rare to find, Will, you know that? It’s so hard to find people who care and think like you do. You don’t get angry, and you really don’t want anyone else to suffer. You’re just trying to get by and me you, do you know how lovely that is? Everyone is always trying to be the best, and prove they’re the prettiest or the un-sluttiest or the smartest, but you just- just let all that be. And you can’t care whether you are or not.  
“You’re easy. Not-” Mike laughs, licking his lips- “not like that. At all. But you’re always up for anything. Dustin wants to ride the biggest rollercoaster in the midwest? Sure, if that’s what he wants. El wants to eat Eggos for the seventh time in a row? Yeah, as long as we get caramel syrup. You’re just such a wonderful person, Will. And I know you don’t believe that.” Will shakes his head against Mike’s chest, his throat hitching. “No, you don’t. I know your dad was shit, and trust me, I hate him as much as you do. We all do. But nothing he said about you is true. You’re amazing at art. You weren’t a mistake. And you’re not a fag.” Will nodded frantically, unable to say anything, but trying to remind Mike that yes, he is. He is a queer, and he’s told them all that last summer. But Mike pressed on.

“No, yeah, you like guys. But that doesn’t make you a fag, since you don’t want to be one. You’re just gay, Will, because that’s what you are. You didn’t ask to be, but you are. You can… can be gay without being anything Lonnie or Troy said. You’re an amazing person, and if you kiss guys, that’s no one’s business.” Mike appeared to be running out of words, and hugged Will to his chest tighter. “I can’t… jeez, Will, I’m awful with words, but… this is gonna come out wrong. I’m glad you’re so shy and all, ‘cause if you weren’t, I might be too- um. I’d be scared you’d get hurt, is all, and I know I shouldn’t baby you, but it’s just… I want you to be taken care of by some nice guy.” He laughed slightly at Will’s owlish expression.

Will had managed to get a hold of his tears again, thank God, somewhere between his dad and kissing guys. He was still shaking a little, but he managed in a watery voice, “tuh-taken… care of?”

“Yes, taken care of,” Mike said in defeat, rubbing Will’s narrow back yet again. He perched his chin on Will’s crown and breathed slowly, trying to make Will’s breath deepen by transmitting the speed of his own. “We can talk about it later, okay? For now, sleep. Yeah?” Will nodded weakly, still exhausted and sheepish from making Mike worry.

“Sorry I…” Will trailed off, not sure what to apologize for first. Sorry I’m crazy. Sorry I can’t just like girls and make it easier for you. Sorry I made you miss school. Sorry I make you want to baby me instead of taking care of yourself. “I-”

“Don’t.” Mike said quietly, effectively cutting Will’s apology off. He gently rolled Will onto his side to face Mike, sliding down and putting loose arms around the short boy’s waist. Will pressed closer to him despite the guilt for being so greedy, for wanting Mike so badly, for making him miss school again. “I’m not mad, you know. I want to do…” he was cut off by a yawn, both from tiredness and Will’s radiating body heat. 

“Sleep?” Will ventured meekly, letting Mike’s comfy disposition pull him close and envelop him in his sharp cologne and the soft rasp of the asthma he’d had since first grade in his chest. 

“Yeah, sleep,” Mike said drowsily. “Just for a little, and then…” He began drifting off, smiling slightly and sighing as he slipped off into his nap, arms still encircling Will. 

“We’ll get up later,” Will promised the dozing Mike. “We’ll get up later.” He surrendered to his own need for rest, falling into a fitful sleep. He was still in shock from Mike’s affection, but pleasantly so. 

He wished, again, that things didn’t have to be so complicated with Mike. He loved spending time with him, he really did, but he couldn’t just say that. And Mike was so horribly open with his love for everyone; he told everyone how much he loved them almost chronically. Will wished he could do that. But never, ever could Will have said that. He loved Mike, he did. He just… couldn’t ever say that, because if he did… we wasn’t sure he could ever stop saying it. He’d shout it from the rooftops if he ever said it out loud, he was sure.

He realized, in that moment, that he could never say he loved Mike Wheeler. He wanted to, but he couldn’t

And as he was drifting off, he realized something again- the walls didn’t seem to bleed so much from his spot in Mike’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> okay there it was!!! ill start writing again real soon y'all, okay??? yeah okay haha ily all


End file.
